Ruthless Heart
BETH WILLIAMSON
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
About the Author
The Heart Series
Copyright Page
Prologue
‡
August, 1872
Eliza squinted at the numbers she’d noted in her journal and cursed her poor eyesight. She had left the data alone for two solid days and could not for the life of her remember what she had written. There was no help for it, she’d have to ask for help, a dangerous proposition to be sure.
She pushed the glasses up on her nose and sighed. Her sister Angeline was the only one she trusted to assist her. If Papa caught Eliza performing experiments again, the rage would be unimaginable. Just one of the reasons she was up at three o’clock in the morning checking on the data.
A knock at the door startled her, and she nearly fell off the bed. Eliza shoved the notebook under the blanket along with the pencil and hoped it was Angeline out there because there was no way she’d be able to hide the potato peeler she’d built last week.
Eliza made it to the door without tripping over anything her path, not the first time but certainly a rare occasion. Just as she reached it, someone knocked again, this time in a staccato rhythm as if telling her to hurry up.
She pressed her ear against the door.
“Who is it?” she asked in a harsh whisper.
“Me. Open the door.”
Her sister Angeline had been blessed with everything that had not been bestowed upon Eliza. Where Eliza was plain and had brown hair, dark blue eyes, average height, and terrible eyesight, Angeline was tall, blonde, willowy, and simply stunning in her beauty at seventeen.
Eliza opened the door, and Angeline darted in wearing her night dress, her hair in a fat braid. Her eyes were swollen and red as if she’d been crying. The girls had been very close when they were young, but then as they grew older and Eliza was shunned by the other children in their ward, they grew apart. Eliza had been reading scientific books and journals, no less, which warranted painfully severe punishment. She learned to hide her passion, but the damage had been done to her status in the community. She was an outsider, even in her own home.
Angeline coming to her room in the night could be dangerous for both of them, yet Eliza did love her sister. From the look of her, she needed help.
“What is the matter?”
Angeline opened her mouth and closed it, then folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. It was a parody of something. “Silas has made an offer for me.”
Eliza couldn’t stop her own mouth from dropping open. “Silas? The Silas who already has three wives, who is older than Papa? That Silas?”
Angeline nodded jerkily. “I do not know what to do. I must be obedient. I must do as Papa says, but I was so hoping Jonathan would return from his mission and offer for me.”
Angeline and her beloved Jonathan had been inseparable as children. A few years older than her, he’d gone off to fulfill his mission before coming back to the ward and marrying, which was the way of the followers of Latter Day Saints, what she referred to as LDS. Some people called them Mormons, after Brigham Young and his ideals. Regardless of what they were called, Eliza did not follow the LDS beliefs.
Angeline sat down on the bed and noticed the contraption on the floor. “Oh, Eliza, if Papa catches you…”
Eliza knelt on the floor in front of her sister. “Forget that. We cannot help who we are just as we cannot help who we love.” She took her sister’s clammy hands, her heart breaking right along with Angeline’s. “What did Papa tell Silas?”
Angeline’s mouth twisted into a grimace. “What do you think he told him? He accepted. We are to be married. Eliza, I… I have to be obedient and listen to what Papa says, but my heart belongs to Jonathan.” Tears coursed down her cheeks in the path left by the hundreds before them.
Although it had been years since they’d sat side by side and shared secrets, Eliza finally realized it had been her choice to stay away from Angeline. Maybe to shield her younger sister from the ridicule heaped upon Eliza. Now, Angeline needed her.
Eliza sat on the bed beside her sister. “What can I do?”
Angeline looked at her with great sadness in her blue eyes. “You’re already doing it.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re being my sister again. I’ve missed you, Eliza.”
This time it was Eliza who teared up. Her sweet sister was breaking the rules set forth by their father by speaking to Eliza. However, she would never openly defy him. Angeline was fated to be fourth wife to a man high in the LDS community, a man who wielded power, a man not to cross.
Eliza could not stop Angeline’s impending wedding.
Chapter One
‡
October, 1872
Eliza nearly dropped the glass on her foot. Her heart pounded frantically as she held back the scream of fear that threatened to explode from her throat. She forced herself to set the glass back against the wall as quietly as she could.
The men were in the living room, sitting by the fire and talking in whispers. Eliza had discovered that if she put a glass against the wall and then her ear against the glass, she could hear conversations in the next room.
A handy skill to have when her sister’s life was at stake.
As she listened, she pressed her hand against her aching chest and closed her eyes. For the last week, Eliza had thought her sister had disappeared at the hands of her husband, Josiah. However, from what she just overheard, Angeline had run away, run! To where, Eliza had no idea, and she was still worried beyond measure.
Josiah Brown was in there along with her father. “We need to send someone after them.” That was Josiah. “I will not be made a fool of by two of my wives.”
Two? That meant Lettie probably went with Angeline. Good for her! Josiah was a horse’s ass and a mean one at that. He deserved no wives, much less three.
“I know of a man.” Her father spoke slowly, as if the words were being pulled from him. Eliza wished she could see his face. “He will track her for a price.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred dollars. He is not a man from the ward. He is an outsider with a great many, ah, skills.” Her father made a funny sound, and she realized he was sucking on his pipe. A disgusting habit she abhorred.
What kind of skills did the man have?
“You will talk to this man and tell him we will not be hornswoggled. I want him to find them, find her. Punishment is required for an infraction such as this. She is not a godly woman, Silas.” Josiah’s words were sharp, scathing.
“I know that now, old friend. She was raised without a godly mother, and the devil has obviously inhabited her soul. I suspect it might be too late to save Eliza, too.”
What? Save her from the devil? Oh, for pity’s sake, she was a scientist, not a devil-loving heathen.
“What is his name?”
“Wolfe. Grady Wolfe.”
The name struck a chord deep in Eliza’s soul. It resonated through her, raising goose bumps in its wake.
Grady Wolfe.
He sounded like a predator, a man sent to track human beings. She didn’t like him already.
“Do not worr
y Josiah. We’ll find them. Angeline will know God’s wrath for her misdeeds.” Silas spoke of his daughter as if she was a scourge on his family name.
Eliza wanted to punch him.
“When will he begin his quest to find them?”
“Tomorrow. He will wait for the money at the saloon at dinner time.”
“Then I will sleep better tomorrow in knowing the Wolfe is chasing the runaway bitches.” Josiah coughed, or perhaps laughed. She couldn’t tell which but footsteps sounded and she realized her father was coming into the kitchen.
She ran to the stove and stirred the stew, realizing too late the glass was still in her hand. She slid it into the folds of her skirt as her father came near.
“When will supper be ready, daughter?”
“Shortly, Father. I only have need to take the biscuits from the oven and set the table.” She kept her voice steady while her body nearly shook with anger and fear for Angeline.
“Set a place for our guest. He will eat with us.” Without another word, her father left the room.
Eliza slumped and let out a huge breath she’d been holding. They were sending a man after Angeline, which meant she’d be dragged back here for her punishment. Eliza couldn’t let that happen. She’d have to find her sister before the bounty hunter could.
How, she had no earthly clue, but her books could help her. After supper, she vowed to find a way to help Angeline. Eliza hadn’t been able stop the wedding, but she’d die before she failed her little sister again.
Eliza breathed slowly through her mouth to avoid the stench in the alley. She’d never imagined anything could smell worse than an outhouse, but apparently, she’d been wrong. The darkened stretch between the two buildings was the ideal place to wait for the man she was following. However, she was loath to admit, even to herself, her courage was beginning to wane. It was dark, obviously smelly, and there were numerous noises around her she couldn’t attribute to anything human. Her heart thumped madly while the reality of the world around her assaulted her senses with each passing minute.
She nearly gave herself away when something dropped on her head, yet she held in the screech with effort, managing to squash the offending insect with only one long shudder as she wiped her hands on the grass beneath her. The man had been in the saloon for at least an hour. All she had to do was stay put until he left then follow him. It was a simple plan.
Eliza felt anything but reassured by the simpleness of it. What she had decided to do, what she was currently doing, she’d never even dreamed of, and that was saying a lot. Eliza had spent too much time dreaming of so many things, she’d forgotten to step outside that world.
Now, she was completely out of her element and scared. She had no experience in tracking or hunting. Realistically, she’d never been more than ten miles from where she’d been born nineteen years earlier.
Yet here she was in the town she’d been forbidden to be in, alone, with a borrowed horse and as much courage as she’d ever been able to muster. All she had to do was remember her sister Angeline, and Eliza’s fear seemed petty and unimportant. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and shifted her feet to relieve the discomfort in her legs from squatting for so long. All she could do was hope the man she was waiting for would appear before her entire lower half went numb.
Just as she began to wonder if the stranger would ever leave the saloon, aptly named the Drinking Hole, a man emerged through the batwing doors. The light behind him silhouetted his frame, making him into a dark unknown. However she recognized him from earlier when she’d watched her father pay him. Mr. Wolfe was tall and rangy with a loose-hipped walk that made him stand out in the small Utah town. His clothing was as black as the night around him, along with his hat and likely his heart and soul as well.
Eliza chided herself for jumping to conclusions about the man. There was no reason to judge him just because he’d been hired to hunt her sister. Or maybe there was a reason, but it wasn’t Eliza’s business. She really didn’t care about why he’d accepted the money, only about how she could use him to find Angeline. Eliza had to be smart enough to follow him without notice. Definitely easier said than done.
He lit a cheroot, a flash of orange and red in the velvety blackness around him temporarily lighting his features. He looked like a creature of the night, a predator. It sent a shiver down her spine. What was she doing? Eliza had lived her life in books, never venturing farther than she could walk, and here she was about to jump off a proverbial cliff. She had no experience in being on the trail, couldn’t hunt or fish, and the only knowledge she had came from books and her own experiments.
Panic clawed at her belly as the stranger stepped toward his horse. She either followed him now, or she lost the trail to find Angeline. This was the moment she decided if her sister’s life mattered more than hers, if comfort and familiarity, even if it included unhappiness, was better than the unknown danger awaiting her.
Tears stung Eliza’s eyes as she thought of Angeline, the sweet blonde girl who had trusted her father to keep her safe. He’d failed Angeline completely and had left her to her own devices, as limited as they were. Now it was up to Eliza to help her, and she’d never been so frightened in her life.
His boots scraped on the wood planked sidewalk, loud in the quiet surrounding them. Fear coated her tongue, but Eliza rose, keeping her eye on him as she held onto the reins of the horse behind her. The equine was mostly a plow horse, but her father had ridden the gelding for the last ten years. Of course he’d refused to name the horse so Eliza called him equus caballus, or Cab for short. Another reason Father would be furious with her, but at that moment Eliza didn’t give a fig for what her father would say. He had lost his rights as a parent as far as she was concerned.
Silas Hunter wouldn’t have recognized his elder daughter, not that he’d ever really seen her clearly. She had not only found her way to town, she’d also found the man called Grady Wolfe. The stranger scratched the bay behind the ears, earning a wuffle and a nudge from the horse’s big snout. The stranger murmured something Eliza couldn’t hear, then unhitched the horse and mounted quickly with an agility that surprised her. He obviously hadn’t had too much liquor or he would’ve been a lot less graceful. Or perhaps he was always athletically gifted.
Although he was thin, it didn’t mean he wasn’t muscular or agile, that much was obvious. As a scientist, Eliza admired his skills. Then she reminded herself he was now trotting away as she stood there like a bespectacled fool wondering which muscles he’d used to get on the horse. She’d remind herself later to look it up in the anatomy book tucked inside her bag.
Eliza threw herself up on Cab, with significantly less agility than the stranger, and started after her prey. Although not a regular rider, Eliza had always had a good seat and rode astride whenever Papa wasn’t around. She’d even made one of her skirts into a split riding skirt a few years earlier, which came in handy when she’d been readying for a life on the run. And now here she was riding into the night alone, following a man hired to find Angeline.
It was frightening and exhilarating. For at least the first fifteen minutes. Then the lights from town faded from view, and the cloak of darkness settled around her. She recognized the sounds of the birds, frogs and insects, as well as the constellations in the sky. Much as she enjoyed nature in all its fine glory, her thighs and fanny would never forgive her.
Two hours into her adventure, Eliza questioned her own sanity for embarking on it. As the cold seeped into her bones, she shivered, not realizing just how cool the night would get. Her bag bumped against her knee with the constant jarring motion of the horse. As her breath came out in small puffs, she shifted in the saddle because her behind was numb, along with her thighs. How long could the man ride? God help her if he planned on riding all night.
Grady knew someone was following him. Whoever it was didn’t know what the hell he was doing, that much was obvious. The idiot didn’t have the common sense to be stealthy as he plodded along
behind him. Since he didn’t know why he was being followed, he kept riding longer than he would have before stopping for the night.
His human shadow stayed right along behind him, apparently determined to freeze to death right along with Grady. He prided himself on his instincts. They were standing up and howling like a pack of coyotes right about then.
The moon was high in the sky before he stopped near a thicket of trees. The sound of water nearby masked his movements as he jumped off the horse and crept over to wait for whomever was trailing him.
Apparently oblivious to Grady’s movements, the stranger kept riding along. Grady crouched, his heart beating steadily as his muscles readied themselves. He sprang at the other horse, knocking the idiot the ground with Grady on top of him. As they rolled in the tall grass, he held on tight to the bastard until he heard the stranger speak and realized he’d caught himself a woman.
“Oh my goodness, unhand me.” She had a husky voice, but it was definitely, and unmistakably, female.
Grady reared back and peered at the face beneath the floppy hat. “What the hell?”
“Did you just curse at me?” She pushed at his shoulders. “I will thank you to take your hands off me, you ruffian.”
He couldn’t help it. A laugh burst from his throat, rusty and sharp. “Ruffian?”
“Scoundrel. Rogue. Miscreant. Choose your favorite, just do as I say.” She pushed again, this time managing to shift a rock which promptly dug into his hip.
“Ow. Jesus Christ, woman, give me a minute to—”
“I would prefer now instead of waiting a minute.” She sounded like a damn school teacher scolding him. Her vocabulary spoke volumes about the young woman who followed strangers around in the middle of the night. She didn’t belong anywhere near a man like him, so what the hell was she doing?
Before he could ask, she tried to extract herself, and this time used her legs and feet as weapons connecting solidly with his balls.
Ruthless Heart Page 1
